the glitch in my stars
by rhead-a-holyc
Summary: Upon hearing of the prophecy, Lily had done a ritual, ensuring her son would survive anything the Dark Lord attempted. It really was unfortunate that she hadn't specified the latter.


**Quidditch League Season 6: Caerphilly Catapults**

 **Round 7: [Beater 2] Halloween: Resurrection**

 **Prompts:**

 **(poem) Glitch — Nick Laird**

 **(word) watch**

 **(object) toy car**

 **Summary: Upon hearing of the prophecy, Lily had done a ritual, ensuring her son would survive anything the Dark Lord attempted. It really was unfortunate that she hadn't specified the latter.**

* * *

Harry gripped the toy car tightly in his fist. It was an old little thing. It's paint was chipped, and the body was slightly bent where Dudley had managed to sit on it some time before he had grown bored of the toy. Some of the edges were sharp enough to cut through his skin, and his palms still displayed the faint lines when he looked hard enough.

It had been a perfectly normal day too, until Harry had fallen down the stairs on his way from the bathroom. Harry knew he had been pushed. He had caught a glimpse of Dudley's grinning face as he tumbled down the stairs, but the official story would be that he had tripped over some toys that had been lying at the top of the stairs - 'It could have happened to anyone!'

He'd also caught a glimpse of something that almost felt like sleep before he had woken again, nose pressed against the floor that had become half-blurry. Harry just knew his glasses had been broken _Again_.

Harry always believed there was no amount of cello-tape that could fix his glasses, and he was somehow always wrong. He was sure he would be able to hunt down some cello-tape later.

The screaming was something he only registered several long moments after he blinked awake. His chest hurt something awful even as his shirt felt horrendously wet for clothing he had been wearing since the morning. It had been clean when Harry put it on.

Harry practically vibrated with the floor as Dudley thundered down the stairs, and Harry forced himself to move or be murdered a la Dudley's incredible weight. Harry wasn't able to move an inch. Instead, Dudley stopped just above where Harry lay, still attempting to move, and continued to scream until Harry had wrapped his hands around the toy car in his pocket and pointed it at the boy threateningly as he managed to get himself onto his back.

"Shut up."

It took several seconds to realise that there was actual _blood_ on the toy, but Dudley's cries were silenced and that was all Harry really cared about. His ears still rang with Dudley's voice – it wasn't a sound Harry wanted to commit to memory.

"For a seven year old, you scream like a _girl_ ," Harry muttered under his breath as he stood with the support of a nearby wall. His breathing got easier with every passing moment. Aunt Petunia was going to _murder_ him for the stain on the carpet.

"But-but... You-you just..."

"Oh, go stammer yourself into insanity, Dudley. It would be a gift to society if you were actually tossed out of it," Harry muttered as went to search for the bleach and a rag. Petunia had been summoned by Dudley's blubbering by the time Harry had returned, glaring at Harry for the spot.

"Is that _blood_? How dare you bring your freakishness into the house?! We _warned_ you to stop with your nonsense!"

Harry paused. "Would you rather I play dead? I certainly wouldn't mind it. Although, I think Dudley might."

Dudley squeaked. Harry rolled his eyes as Petunia quickly turned to coddle her son. Harry ignored the feeling of Dudley's eyes on him as his mother led him up the stairs and into his room. He did mimic passing out a couple of times for Dudley's benefit, but straightened before Petunia could focus her narrowed gaze on him again. The spot was almost unnoticeable when Petunia returned to the bottom of the stairs.

"I don't know what kind of sick joke you've played to terrify my Dudders as much as you have, but I will not stand for it. One more time and it'll be the cupboard until Christmas! Do you understand me, boy? Believe me, Vernon wouldn't be as lenient with you!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry dutifully responded. It wasn't as if Petunia would listen to a word he said anyway. She'd never believe Dudley had shoved him down the stairs. She'd probably also never believe that the stain was caused by something other than a red sauce.

"And go clean yourself up! I will not have you making more of a mess as you try to do the dishes!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

Petunia tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Harry to swap his shirt, grabbing it from his hands as soon as the shirt was past his head.

Harry watched as his aunt bundled his bloody shirt with the rest of the wash., wondering if he was ever going to see that shirt again. Somehow, he doubted it. It was probably going to mysteriously disappear like all the others.

Making sure there was no one else in sight, Harry tugged the toy car out of his pocket. He tilted the toy car around until he could comfortably hold it in his hand with the sharpest, and most rusty, edge of his car closest to the cupboard surface and etched another little stroke into the door of his cupboard. The line covered four others, and marked the fifth time he had experienced the sleep-like darkness and woken with some part of his body in blood.

He'd started the tally about a year and a half ago. Vernon and Petunia always got furious immediately, then decided to pretend like nothing had happened. Dudley never took it as well, spluttering and blubbering for at least a day afterwards.

In fact, Dudley reacted in exactly the same way whenever he found Harry lying face-down on the floor. Harry had thought Dudley would have gotten used to it at this point, but it never happened and Dudley reacted exactly the same each and every time it happened. Harry had taken to playing dead whenever possible, just to see Dudley fleeing the area in a panic and his sidekicks running after him in confusion..

It really was great fun.

(Harry wondered if Dudley was more terrified of him or of his toy car now. He wasn't willing to part with his toy to test that theory.)


End file.
